Without You
by BearFeetz
Summary: RentFic. Without You through Angel's eyes. Wrote this AGES ago and just found it. Read and Review And have tissues ready


Disclaimer:  Not mine.  Not mine at all.  I'll give em back when I'm done, I promise.  ^_~

Based on the scene "Without You" in RENT.

~I can't even walk on my own anymore.

I can't do anything on my own anymore.

I can't eat on my own.  I can't go to the bathroom on my own.  I can't read on my own.  I can't even fucking throw up on my own.  The only thing I can really do by myself now is sleep.  Sleep, and lie here waiting for death.

I can't do this.  I can't.  It's so unfair.  

It's so unfair.

I feel like a robot.  Or worse yet, a parasite.  That's it.  I'm a parasite.  I can't function at all without someone else's help.  I have to totally depend on others—Collins, especially, do to things that I've always been able to do alone.  That any normal, healthy, regular human being should be able to do alone.

Collins.

Oh, God.

He's so beautiful.  He never leaves my bedside.  Not to eat.  Not to sleep.  Not to talk to any of the others if they ever drop by to visit.  He sits there, holding my hand, laying his head on my shoulder, and I stroke his long dreadlocks and see his eyes, which are always glistened over with tears, or worse, overflowing and silently rolling down onto my shirt.  Sometimes, we don't even say anything to each other; we just stay like that, trying to savor THAT feeling as long as we possibly can before I…

He has to feed me.  He has to bathe me.  He has to dress me.  He has to undress me.  He has to tuck me in at night.  He reads to me.  He has to give me my meds.  He needs to brush my teeth for me, hold the garbage pail while I throw up, carry me to the bathroom, clean my bedpan, do absolutely every single thing for me.

And he never complains.

Never.  Not once.  In fact, if ANY of the hospital staff even TRIES to touch me, tries to do any of those things for me, he pulls me close to him in fierce protectiveness and gives them this look that clearly suggests touching me means he'll kill them.  And they don't question him.  He can't bear the thought of a bunch of heartless, stone cold doctors poking and prodding at me like some science experiment, of anyone hurting me.  It's been like that since the moment we met—and I'm more grateful for it now than ever.  I don't want any of those goddamned doctors touching me.  All they care about are their stupid paychecks.  My love would never let anything happen to me.  He's the only one I want taking care of me, touching me, being with me.

I just wish I didn't have to impose all this on him.  Sometimes, I want to scream.  It's so frustrating.  I don't have any more independence.  I can't do anything myself!  I'm 19 years old!  I should be in my prime.  Instead, I'm a vegetable.  A dying vegetable, at that.

Not that it matters, what the hospital does, because I'm leaving tonight.  They decided that, if I wanted to, they could release me so I could die at home.  Tom didn't even have to ask me.  He knew that's what I wanted, more than anything.  I've wanted nothing more than to get out of this horrible, feeless place since the moment I was admitted.

The room was all straightened up.  Tom washed me, threw the hospital pajamas away and dressed me in regular jeans and a big, baggy sweatshirt, to keep me warm.  It feels so odd to not have all the needles and IV's stuck in me from every direction.  He made the bed, he packed my things, he fed me dinner, then lay down beside me and pulled me close, waiting for the doctor to come with the release forms.  He pressed his forehead against mine, and pressed kisses into my dark hair.

I had never loved and hated someone so much at the same time.

I wanted to kiss him all over.  I wanted hit him a thousand times for doing everything for me.  I wanted to cry into his shirt and never stop saying "I love you."  I wanted to scream at him to back the hell off and let me do everything myself.  I wanted to cling to him like this forever and never let him go.  I wanted to shove him as far away from me as I could possibly get him.

The doctor came in and within five minutes, I was signed out.  With that fake, encouraging smile that I absolutely loathe, she wished me the best and left, leaving a wheelchair outside our door so that Collins could get me outside "safely."

Oh, I get it.  A wheelchair.  Now I can't even WALK by myself!!  Suddenly, a fierce, sharp, piercing anger stabbed me senseless all over my body.  My blood heated, boiled, curdled in hatred of the entire world and everything around me.  I wanted to hurt something.  No, better yet, kill something.  Scream at the next person I saw.

I swung my legs off to the side of the bed.  The anger was so great, it was almost unbearable.  I looked up and saw Tom standing there, his beautiful brown eyes completely filled to the brim with tears.

I wanted to make love to him.  I wanted to kill him.

I bit back my emotions, my own pupils beginning to burn with salty tears of their own as I gently descended from the bed.  I felt Collins' strong arms hold me around the waist, clutching my hand as he helped me down to the floor.

_STOP HELPING ME!!!!  The words roared in my mind, begging to come out of my mouth._

I took a deep breath, and moved to walk towards the door.

But my legs no longer worked.  I stumbled, nearly tripping.  

Collins immediately caught me against him, the look on his face heartbreaking and angering at the same time.

But not nearly as heartbreaking and angering as what he said next:

"Here, my love…let me help you…"

::Snap::

Suddenly, it was as if a volcano inside me erupted.  A dam broke loose, the water gushing out.  A bomb went off, exploding.  I was only aware of one thing.

I was never going to forgive myself for what I did next.

With the last bit of my own strength I could muster, I whirled around to face my lover, my best friend, my life.  My arms, seeming acting on their own, reached out towards him.

And shoved him away from me so hard, I almost sent him to the floor.

"Would you BACK OFF?!?"  I cried, the tears spilling over onto my now-pale cheeks.  "God DAMMIT!  I am so SICK of this!  I don't NEED your help, okay?!  I can WALK!  And I can do it MYSELF!"

The second the words were out, I felt like killing myself to take them back.

Collins stared at me incredulously.  He blinked, in shock, the tears now overflowing, falling from his long lashes.  His entire body trembled as though he was having a seizure, and he looked as though he had been hurt beyond what any apology could make up for.  It was then that I realized the enormity of what I had just done.

I had hurt someone to the point that they were in a deeper pain than I was.  And that someone was the man that I loved more than anything in this entire world.

I wanted to die.  

Collins swallowed hard, and slowly turned away from me, biting his lower lip to keep from breaking into sobbing.  My heart shattered into 1000 little pieces.

I wanted to die.

But I wanted to die in his arms.

I buried my face in my hand, finally letting go, finally releasing the tears, the pain, the emotion.  Collins did the same, his long dreadlocks hiding his face, but his shaking still telling me that he cried with me.

"Tom…"  I gasped through my choking sobs, reaching out for him.  "I…I…I'm sorry…"

He turned back around, the excruciating gaze meeting mine.  He sobbed yet again, gazing at my open arms.

Then rushed right into them, pulling me to him fiercely.  The next few seconds were nothing but a rush and a blur.  We kissed one another everywhere, hands, head, hair, lips, face, neck, clinging to each other as though there was no tomorrow.  I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I do know that when I was finally so utterly exhausted that I couldn't weep anymore,  I let him pick me up and cradle me in his arms.  I wrapped my arms around his neck, nuzzling into the warm skin as he carried me from the room.

"Take me home, my love…?"  I begged, sniffling and wiping my tears on the sleeve of the sweatshirt, way too long for my now skin-and-bone arms.

He let out a fresh sob, and kissed my forehead gently, holding me securely.  "Of course, my Angel," he managed to choke out.

And that's exactly where we went.

~Author's Note:  Wow!  It's been a while, eh?  Yeah, I took a little break from fan fiction.  Basically, this is one of those "sit-in-front-of-the-computer-and-see-what-comes-out" thingies.  I was listening to "Without You" and this just kinda…happened.  You see, I've seen the show 3 times (No. 4 this March 31st, 3rd row baby!) And of course, faithfully watched my Collins and Angel all during without you…but, get this:  being the HORRIBLY observant little girl I am, I NEVER NOTICED how the two get in that fight over Angel insisting he can walk by himself until the last time I went.  I was like "Huh?  Since when did THAT happen?  DUDE!"  Anywho, I thought it was such a beautiful scene, so I guess I just needed to write about it.  Hope you liked it!  It might not be as good, since I think I'm a little rusty.

Happy New Year To All!


End file.
